


Triple Play

by AssistedRealityInterface



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Abuse, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 19:54:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1523588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssistedRealityInterface/pseuds/AssistedRealityInterface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grant Ward and John Garrett are undercover, which is all well and good until the real identity of the Clairvoyant means more trauma from Grant's childhood is brought to light. Coulson's team is less than happy about the danger Ward is inevitably placed in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Triple Play

**Author's Note:**

> So I finished this up on my tumblr and figured hey, might as well put it on Ao3, I've been so lax about that. I am just so sick of where this plotline is going so I'm putting this up in protest.

…

"Ward!" John shouts, struggling in his handcuffs and giving his former junior officer a horrified look. "What the hell? What the  _hell_  was that? You just  _killed her! You just killed my Vic!_  What the  _hell_ are you  _doing,_ boy?”

Ward flinches. John hasn’t yelled at him like that in years. He tried once, when Ward was seventeen, green and new to S.H.I.E.L.D., his first year the Academy. The scars of his brother’s abuse were still fresh on him, and Ward had listened patiently until John had thrown his hands up, then promptly broke down and begged not to be beaten.

John had never raised his voice to him after that, and Ward didn’t know why he’d started now.

He surveys his former superior officer and bites his lip, debating. 

"She’s fine," he says after a long sigh. "I used an Icer on everyone. That’s why she gave me the gun. This—this was a setup. So…"

"Jesus, I don’t care," John says, relaxing. "God. Thank god. Baby girl, wake up."

He nudges her with his boot. “Vic, c’mon.”

"—Because you’re HYDRA," Ward cuts in. "Because you lied to me. To everyone. To—to me."

"And what the hell were you doing shooting a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent then, Grant?" John asks, his voice dangerously soft. 

Ward swallows and clenches his fists.

"Trying to make you believe me," he says. "Coulson sent me in undercover."

"Did he now," John says, his voice weary. "Does he care about what that’ll do to the team? To you?"

"I don’t know," Ward replies. "Probably. Why do you care?"

John sighs, long-suffering, and closes his eyes.

"Because  _I’m_  doing this to protect  _you,”_  he said. “Sit down, boy. We need to have a talk about some things.”

Ward sits and listens without realizing he should protest. John’s eyes are dark with pain rather than soulless displeasure, however, so he doesn’t open his mouth.

"I’m not the Clairvoyant," he says. "I’m just one of his footsoldiers. But I needed to be. For your sake."

"My sake?" Ward asks. "Why me? You joined up with HYDRA just to protect me? You  _allied yourself with the enemy—”_

"For you? Damn fucking right," he cuts in. "And I’d do it again, even with the lip you’re giving me, so shut up and listen, Grant!"

Ward clamps his mouth shut and glowers. John groans.

"Fuck," he says. "God. I did this for you, yeah. Because someone had to look out for you. Because the Clairvoyant…"

John trails off and glances up at Ward. “When’s the last you heard from your older brother?”

Ward’s stomach hurts.

He swallows and replies, “Not since I was seventeen. Not since—”

"Not since you took your baby brother and tried to take a beat up pickup truck from Massachusetts to California," John says. "Not since you mugged me outside a gas station so your brother wouldn’t go hungry. Isn’t that right?"

Ward nods wordlessly. John sighs. “Yeah, I know. Shit. How do I put this, Grant…”

He shakes his head and slumps in his seat. “We’ve had a more.. _.recent_ acquaintance.”

Ward opens his mouth and retches before he can stop himself. John sits upright in an instant, straining at the straps on the seat, trying to reach him. Ward is instinctively grateful before he shudders and retches again.

"Grant, please—"

"You’re  _helping him,”_  Ward cries, his voice raw and harsh, tumbling out of his throat and leaving it ragged and sore, “you’re  _hurting me,_  you’re helping him,  _hurting me,_  you were my—”

"Grant," John said. "I’m  _not_ helping him. I’m feeding him enough intel to keep him happy without giving him anything big. Why the hell do you think he doesn’t know about Coulson? Or Skye?”

Ward meets his eyes and watches him for a long few minutes. John’s face is as open and honest as it always was. Nothing has changed at all.

He blinks back tears and shakes his head. “I’m here to fight HYDRA. To…to stop the Clairvoyant. And—and if it’s not you, if it’s him—I’ll fight him, too.”

"No," John says, shaking his head. "No, god no. That’s why  _I’m_  here.”

Ward clenches his jaw. “I don’t know that. And I have to keep my team safe. What’s left of S.H.I.E.L.D. safe, too.”

"Jesus, Grant, that’s what I’m  _doing,”_  John snaps. “You have to trust me on this. You trusted me before.”

"But you—"

"But I said I wasn’t doing this because I suddenly decided to up and become a Nazi," John cuts him off. "Jesus Christ, Grant. I’m doing this for you. Try to trust me on that."

A long silence stretches between them both.

"You don’t have to assume the worst of me," John says.

Ward starts laughing so hard his chest aches and his head is ringing and he can’t make it stop to form words, to try to explain why this is making him laugh so hard he feels like he’s making his rib cage crumble, like the support beams of his body are collapsing, and John’s hands reach out uselessly, still strapped in, still completely incapable of touching him.

Between the two of them, Victoria stirs.

"Shit," she mutters, spitting out a blood capsule. "That one didn’t burst."

She looks around. “What a hell of a racket to wake up to. Ward? Agent Ward—”

She looks up at John and back at Ward. 

"Vic," John says with a long sigh, "strap in. I’ve got a story to tell you."

"Don’t you always," she mutters, wrinkling her nose, but she takes a seat next to Ward regardless.

He has yet to stop laughing.


End file.
